Category: Community

Franklin proclaimed them
to us in 1941

Norman drew them

for us in 1943

We have lived our lives

in search of them

They are our most deeply

held convictions

Four are the freedoms

and the freedoms are for

all humans everywhere

They are the goal

Freedom of Speech

Free to talk
and hear
Free to write
and read
Free to teach
and learn
Free to create
and experience

Freedom to Worship

whomever or no one
whatever or nothing
whenever or never
wherever or nowhere
however or not at all
why ever or for no reason
the religion, philosophy, or ethos
the faith or belief we choose

Freedom from Fear

of oppression and brutality
by tyrants or despots
by bullies or demagogues
of killing and slaughter
because of nationality or religion
because of race or culture
of disease and corruption
of bodies or minds
of institutions or leaders
of rape and torture
of people or nature
of wallets or souls

Freedom from Want

of food
and drink
of lodging
and warmth
of work
and self-worth
of respect
and value

These are our values

or so I was taught

So what the fuck

is happening to us now

I

am
so
ashamed

We

are
fucking
pissed

It is

time for
them
to go

Help me

take back
this land
from them
–Robyn Elaine Serven
 –December 23, 2005

Except

they have learned

how to kill

better

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–January 13, 2007

A drip of blood

from one perspective

unless its yours

or mine

It falls on the ground

in the highest places

in the villages of Nepal

where blood runs cold

it trickles down

the mountainside

through far Kashmir

into Afghanistan

staining the banks of the streams

that carve the hidden valleys

and splash into the rivers

staining them too with the blood

of guilty and the innocent alike

ever downward through

the desert of Iraq

There are other mountains

in Bosnia and Kosovo

where the blood also spilled

running eastward perhaps

through the valleys of Chechnya

and further on to color red

the desert of Uzbekistan

Blood also spilled in the jungles

of the Congo and Rwanda

and the oil plains of Nigeria

flowing into the rivers

ever onward

’til the rivers ran red

Here too the blood

eventually sank into the deserts

of Eritrea and Darfur

and the bazaars

of the Sudan and Somalia

The desert is stained

with blood

The bloody fist of oppression

squeezes the life

out of the jungle of Myanmar

and the farms of Zimbabwe

The mountains

of Peru and Columbia

add more than their share

The Big Muddy is stained

as it passes by what

used to be the Big Easy

but it’s sure not easy anymore

and the rivers run red with blood

carrying it to the ocean

an ocean of blood

bathing our world

Our home is built

on the blood of others

yet still we add more

or stand by watching it run

Our home is sinking

as the blood-tainted

ocean rises

The blood will consume

us all in the end

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–December 26, 2005

Where do I go

to get my life back?

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–November 14, 2005

Wouldn’t we?

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–December 16, 2005

On a cosmic scale

the scale of star stuff

we are all

so insignificant

minor players

on a minor stage

Just dust in the wind

evaporating in a relative

wink of an eye

or so I have been told

One can also

hold the view

that the vastness

of spacetime

gives primacy

to that stage

and to this life

while it occurs

Earth is my universe

until I can leave it

I am immortal

until I die

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–December 14, 2005

A joshua tree, a mayfly

A redwood, a butterfly

A panda cub, slime mold

A humpback whale, Streptococcus pneumoniae

A human being

All passing fancy

Life doesn’t care

as long as there’s more life

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–January 5, 2006

It is not ours

We only

borrow it

thinking that we

control it

we have killed

to possess it

’til it is

our master

The fire consumes

clear, sterile

and then waits

for  life anew

It will have

the last word

The fire was here

long before

life began

We only live

on its skin

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–January 3, 2006

But not today.

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–December 1, 2005

The Spirit of the Valley

never dies.

It is called

the Mystic Female.

Blue Mother

I weep with you

for the damage done

to the spirit

of the valley

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–November 1, 2005